


What dies inside of us

by jawnandsharklock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional pain, Hurt!John, John is losing it, John sits barefoot, M/M, Sally has never felt this bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 06:44:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jawnandsharklock/pseuds/jawnandsharklock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally pays John a visit. John is a little mental. Post-Reichenbach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What dies inside of us

**Author's Note:**

> I own neither the show nor the characters. I only borrowed them for a while.

Sally Donovan has never felt worse.

 

‘Sherlock’s dead’ is what Lestrade told her over the phone. ‘Jumped off the roof’. She can still recall the tone in Lestrade’s voice. Shocked, devastated, a bit mad, concerned, worried. A bit broken, perhaps.

 

Sally Donavon has never liked Sherlock Holmes. An ignorant bastard. Intelligent, yes. Clever, really clever. Annoying, he was and infuriating. Dangerous. A fraud. Maybe. But she never wanted Sherlock Holmes to die. She wanted him in prison, yes. Locked up, handcuffed, put somewhere where he couldn’t harm anyone. But this, _this_ , is so much worse. Jumped off the roof and he made John watch. That mad wanker.

 

She doesn’t see John for a few days. The feel of guilt is nagging inside her, it is glued to her skin and she wants to rip it off and yell _It’s not my fault he jumped, it’s not my fault he killed himself, he was crazy_. She knows it isn’t. She knows that people who are suicidal often plan their suicide for weeks and months. That doesn’t make her feel any better, though.

 

She visits 221b Baker Street on a rainy Monday morning.

 

There are some case files, that Lestrade needs and she volunteered to get them. She’s not sure why, because she knows how mad John must be at her. Shecould practically feel his hate thrown at her like a death frisbee, when Sherlock got arrested.

John sits in his armchair, when Sally enters the flat. He’s barefoot and he absently stares into space. The chair across from him has never looked so empty. Sally gulps. “Hi uhm…Lestrade wanted me to get the case files” she says into the silence and for a second she thinks that she didn’t speak loud enough but then John rises from his chair.

 

“Yes of course”, he says and that’s when Sally sees _it all_.

 

John’s voice is quiet and friendly, he doesn’t even look at her, his shoulders are hunched down and his face looks torn. Sally tries to smile at him, but she fails miserably and John doesn’t even notice, he stares through her, as if she were made of glass and his eyes focus on something behind Sally, something no one can see.

 

John pads over to the desk and gets the case files. His movements are slow and cautious; as he was afraid he’d break something. Sally thinks that maybe he’s afraid of falling apart just like that. When he hands them over to her, their eyes meet for a brisk moment and Sally inhales sharply. John’s eyes are _empty_. They are blue, of course, but nothing more. No anger, no rage, no bravery, nothing.

 

“I’m sorry”, Sally blurts out and John looks at her surprised. “For what?” His voice sounds soft, it’s barely a voice anymore, he sings his words almost. “I’m sorry he’s dead”, is what Sally manages to say. Her heart is breaking.

 

John still has got that child-like expression on his face. “Who is dead?”, he asks, almost curiously. Sally stares at him. She clears her throat. “Sherlock, John”, she says. “Sherlock is dead.”

 

John looks like someone punched him. “What?” he whispers. “What?”

 

A lump forms itself deep down in Sally’s throat and she wishes for Sherlock to be alive, so badly, it almost scares her. _Come back, you stupid, stupid idiot_ , she thinks. _Come back because he’s lost without you_. Sally wants to say something, anything, but she can’t.

 

“Is he not coming back?” John asks her with a shattered voice. “Is he not coming back?”

 

Sally blinks.

 

“Is he not coming back?” John repeats, his face white and pale, his eyes wide open. Sally’s eyes fill with tears. “Is he not coming back?” John asks again, louder this time and more demanding. Sally shakes her head, salty tears running down her cheeks. “Is he not coming back?” John shouts. “Is he not coming back?”

 

“No”, Sally croaks. “I’m sorry John.”

 

John’s face falls and he slumps down in his chair. For a moment Sally simply stands there, her chest tightened, her stomach clenched. “I’ll…I’ll go then” she tells John and turns towards the door. She can see his nod from behind. He stares at Sherlock’s chair again. Sally wonders if he can still see him, can still smell him, and still feel him around.

 

Before she reaches the door, John speaks again. “You better go before Sherlock comes back.” he says, his voice soft and light again. “He’ll make a fuss if he sees you here.” He giggles and Sally doesn’t have the heart to tell him again. “I’ll make him some tea” John smiles and stands up from his chair, walking over to the kitchen, while Sally stands still. “He’ll like that, yes…yes he’ll like that”, John mutters to himself.

 

Sally flees out of the door.


End file.
